


How a Monkey and a Snowflake Found Their Yarn: A Soulmates Tale

by yellow_craion



Series: Soulmates Yarn [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Aromantic Raphael Santiago, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Blood Drinking, Canon Jewish Character, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantastic Racism, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hotel Dumort, Hurt Raphael Santiago, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Simon Lewis, Intimacy, Jace Wayland is a Herondale, M/M, Mundane Simon Lewis, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Protective Magnus Bane, Protective Simon Lewis, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, jace is the villain here and has no redeeming qualities, minimal clary in the first scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_craion/pseuds/yellow_craion
Summary: Everybody always had a theory to explain the red string hanging off Simon's wrist but none of that really mattered much to Simon. All the speculations and well wishers sometimes drove him up the wall until, finally, he got around to reading on the phenomenon himself. Some vaguely reputable sources suggest that the string grows with both soulmates until they are both ready to meet. Only then, a connection is made.Of course he’s too impatient to wait for the universe to snap its fingers so to speak, and so he’s hoping to trigger something this summer himself.





	How a Monkey and a Snowflake Found Their Yarn: A Soulmates Tale

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my betas for all the help and encouragements: rabbitclaw, enkelimagnus and gingerangelofthursday on tumblr (don't ask me to put links here coz i have no idea HOW)
> 
> any mistakes are mine and don't hesitate to point stuff to me (or possible suggestions)

As has become usual this summer, on a Sunday afternoon Simon’s childhood friend Clary picks him up from his home, and they go exploring, to see if maybe this is the day the string that connects him with his soulmate will lead them to them. Their weekly escapades have been going on for a few months now, as soon as the length of Simon's string warranted it. For most of his life it had barely been long enough to hang from his wrist, until sometime during his second year of college, it became longer and its tip floated and disappeared before it could reach the ground. Everybody always had a theory to explain it but none of that really mattered much to Simon. All the speculations and well wishers sometimes drove him up the wall until, finally, he got around to reading on the phenomenon himself. Some vaguely reputable sources suggest that the string grows with both soulmates until they are both ready to meet. Only then, a connection is made.

Of course he’s too impatient to wait for the universe to snap its fingers so to speak, and so he’s hoping to trigger  _ something _ this summer himself.

"It keeps going!" Simon exclaims once they reach the corner they've stopped at last week. That cannot be a coincidence, can it? "Clary! It keeps going!" Can it be where his soulmate lives?

"Come on!" Her excitement mirrors his own and he's happy to have her by his side. Clary herself, like most people, doesn’t have a string on her wrist. Multiple times now, both she and Simon's mother assured him of how lucky he is. "Which way?" Clary looks around, waiting for directions. He's the only one who can see his string. So far, at least; he can't wait to meet the mysterious other person who sees it too.

He points to the right and they march on.

The person on the other end; who could it be? He's concocted plenty of scenarios in his head over the years. Now, his ideas are a little more tame than when he was a child, though he still entertains his more adventurous fantasies from time to time.

Are they looking for him and following the thread, like he is? Some days, he's sure they are, there's a tug and pull on his wrist he can't explain in any other way. Other days, he worries all this thrill is just in his head and the other person won't care. Or that there is no other person at all. Ha! After all, the fact that the owner of the red string is the only person able to see it, doesn't lend itself to objectivity.

He's too preoccupied by his thoughts, with his head bowed, staring at the thread, to pay attention to where he's going and it's only Clary's hand on his arm that stops him mid-step.

"What?" He looks up and follows her gaze up.

Oh.

The Hotel Du Mort.

Simon takes an involuntary step back. "Maybe, uh, maybe they're inside on a prank?"

"Doesn't sound like you believe it yourself, Si."

They've heard stories about this place, of course. An old abandoned hotel that for some reason doesn't get demolished or renovated. Every now and then, some kid will go in, on a dare most likely, and, well. It's not that they go missing. No, they all come back out soon enough. They just never remember going inside and the experience creeps them out so bad, they stay clear of the place.

There are theories. The haunted angle is the most popular one, though there are some enthusiasts who claim aliens use it as their base.

"Ok, so… uh…"

"How about we try next week?" Clary blurts out. "Maybe then we'll end up in a mall?"

Simon laughs. Can he wait another week?

"I'm… gonna go in!" He lets out a nervous chuckle and holds on tight to the thread.

"No way! Si, you can't!"

His heart is beating so hard in his chest. He can't tell if it's from fear or anticipation. "I'll be back, don't worry…"

"But, Simon! You know the stories…"

"What? Are you saying my soulmate's an alien?"

"Don't be ridiculous! It's just…  Say you meet them in there. What if you don't remember afterwards?"

"No idea, but I can't just go home! Not now! There could be an actual person now at the end and I have to know!" With his hand hovering over the handle, he turns to Clary for the last time. "Wait here, ok?"

She bites her lip but finally gives him a grin. "Not gonna budge!" She holds both thumbs up. "Good luck!"

Simon takes a breath and opens the door… surprisingly easily. Once he has taken a couple of steps inside, the door shuts behind him as if of its own will. "Great start so far," he mumbles sarcastically after tugging on the handle with no effect, failing to laugh in the face of this place.

The sun is barely getting through the dirty, partially broken windows, so he takes a moment to let his eyes adjust to the gloomy interior before  looking around. The lobby is vast. Here and there, he spots a turn-over armchair or remnants of a glass table. A massive chandelier is somehow still hanging from the ceiling, whole swaths of cobwebs dangling from it like ugly ribbons. Simon walks in a wide circle to avoid it, in case today is the day it crashes down.

"Hello?"

He flinches when the word echoes back to him.

Clutching at his red string, Simon goes further in, keeping in mind the reason he came here.

The old carpet crunches under his steps. He keeps looking around, expecting somebody to jump at him from the shadows. Formerly decorative wallpaper is ripped off in places and spray painted with random names. Slowly, he makes his way upstairs, carefully not touching the banister. Just like every other surface he comes close to, it’s covered in a thick layer of dust. Each step up echoes in the hollow space and Simon wishes he wasn’t alone in the dark.

He scowls when he steps into a puddle at the landing, then runs up the remaining steps, telling himself it’s just a leak from the roof and nothing else. Still, another chill runs up his back, pushing him forward.

The corridor is narrow and even darker than the hall downstairs. He pulls out his phone and uses it to light his path. Paint is chipped all over the walls and he doesn't bother trying to identify its original color.

He stills every couple of steps, listening intently to the point of holding his breath. He can't shake the feeling that he's not alone. When he's moving, he’d swear he hears whispers of conversations following him, but the moment he stops, they do as well. He even tries to whip around to surprise whoever's there, but calls himself silly the moment he's faced with empty space.

The string bends and disappears under the door to one of the rooms.

The door creaks when he pushes it gently. Inside, it's just like he expects; battered furniture cluttering the dark space and not even a window in sight.

"Hello?" He asks again.

There's a figure coming out from the shadows. It's hard to see anything other than vague shapes, because the window is covered with a heavy curtain, so Simon points his phone out.

Dim light of the device goes between them and traces along the red thread that curls around the wrist of the other person.

Simon lets out a gasp.

His soulmate.

This is it.

His heartbeat is hammering in his ears, but there's something warm and familiar that settles in his chest at the same time.

"You can turn on the light."

The soft voice startles him. "Wha …?"

"The light. You can turn it on."

"What, like this place still got power?" He jokes to squash his nerves but fumbles with his hand over the torn wallpaper anyway, scowling at the cobwebs he touches. Then he finds the switch and flicks it, his mouth open already to rebuff and say something along the lines of "I told you so", when brightness blinds him momentarily.

Huh?!

When he opens his eyes, the room is pristine. He gapes openly at suddenly polished floorboards, fluffy rug and clean furniture. One thing that vaguely remains the same is a thick black curtain that hides, presumably, a window.

He looks down at his hand, the one he turned on the light. The fingers that touched the dirty wall. He felt it just a moment ago!

"What is going on here?! This place was in ruins!" Simon whips around, eyes wide. "How did… Damn, you're pretty," he finishes on a dreamy note.

The young man in front of him looks about the same age, but that's not always reliable. And he's wearing a suit! All black with only a silk red tie providing a splash of color. Simon could melt at the sight. As it is, his knees are going soft under him.

Next to this guy, Simon himself is decidedly underdressed in his usual combo of a t-shirt and jeans.

"Simon," he steps forward and extends his right hand. "I'm Simon. Lewis. So happy to finally meet you!"

He has to wonder at how reluctant his soulmate is to offer his own hand in greeting. "Why are you sad?" Simon struggles to not be hurt that the person he's dreamt about could not be happy to see him. "Did something happen? Before, I mean…"

The other man looks down between them. "I just think you're going to be disappointed."

Overwhelming sadness is tugging at Simon until he can't stop himself and he puts his hands on his soulmate's arms, ready to give a speech or ask questions, he's not entirely sure himself, but before he can utter a word the man in his arms jumps in shock at the contact so hard he stumbles and falls forward, leaning on Simon.

"Did… did you feel that?"

"Hm?" With their faces suddenly so close, Simon's mesmerized and it takes him a moment to catch up to the fact they're apparently having a conversation again. "Feel what?"

He's staring at Simon with unabashed wonder.

"My heart. It was beating again."

Simon laughs, "smooth."

"What? No, I mean literally. I'm…" he straightens a bit, not letting go of Simon. "I'm Raphael. I'm a vampire. When you touched me, my heart…"

"Look," he interrupts with a light laugh. "I may be wearing a Superman t-shirt, and I'm a proud geek and all, but I am not that gullible!"

Raphael gives him a soft smile, like he expected that answer. "Check my pulse," he readily offers him his wrist, the one with a string wrapped around it and Simon is again stuck staring.

When he can't find any pulse, he touches his own wrist, looking to compare, but he finds his own pulse point easily enough. "Uh…" He then goes for the neck pulse point, slowly lifting his hand in case Raphael decides that's enough touching. Only with his fingers under the chin, does he notice and comment, "you're cold."

"Yes."

"And you have no heartbeat," he drops his arm.

"Yes," he nods patiently.

Absently, Simon sees the sad resignation coming back onto Raphael's features but he can't focus on that when the he puts the pieces together, glancing around the room.

"I'm in a haunted hotel and my soulmate's a vampire! Oooooooh! Of all the…" he points a finger at Raphael, who just lifts an eyebrow at him, silent. "You have no idea how many things I imagined about this!" He chuckles and shakes his head at his own, once wild, ideas. "From you being on a different continent and how we'd work that out, logistically, to you going to the same school… but this?"

Raphael takes a step back, still not saying a word.

"Just wait till Clary hears! Is my mom gonna freak?? She's gonna freak… Do you eat? Like, solid foods? I know vampires drink blood, obviously, but can you eat?"

Raphael is staring at him.

"How does that work for you?" And suddenly Simon grows solemn and asks, with no trace of previous hype: "Do you kill people?"

"No. We have blood bags regularly delivered from a few hospitals. I make sure the Hotel is fully stocked at all times and the hospitals are not running low because of us."

"Good," Simon nods. "Good. So, you're in charge of that, huh?"

"I'm the Leader of the New York Clan. Keeping my people fed is part of it, yes."

This is getting too much, too soon. Being a real life version of Elena Gilbert is one thing - taller, more masculine version, mind you. The Leader of New York Clan, though, that’s another matter. His people. That all sounds incredibly serious and suddenly Simon feels small.

"Leader? Wow! Uh, congrats?" He smiles awkwardly.

"Thank you," Raphael nods curtly.

Simon hums in a daze.

  
  


\--

 

"How did it go?"

Raphael shrugs.

He called Magnus a few hours after Simon had left, and went to his loft right away. The sun was long down by then and the brisk night air helped him clear his mind. He really couldn’t stand to be alone with his thoughts anymore. Now, he's sitting on the soft sofa, hunched over and not looking up from the floor, his fingers playing with the red thread absently. Magnus' martini glass hovering halfway to his mouth, forgotten momentarily, is still in Raphael's field of vision.

"He called me pretty," Raphael admits quietly and instantly Magnus perks up.

"He's honest and has good taste! Two great qualities right there!"

Raphael mock-glares at him. "I’m not naïve! I know how people rave about the bond being so romantic, ugh… It's just a matter of time before he's dragging me to bed or wants to do all that other nonsense," he shakes his head, again staring blankly at nothing in particular.

"Raphael…"

"And that's not even touching on his mortality and age difference!" He adds with a bitter chuckle.

Magnus heaves a sigh and puts his drink away. "You're getting ahead of yourself. You're both different, yes. But isn't it exciting?" He hopes to infect the vampire with his enthusiasm.

Raphael glances up briefly, considering.

"I know it's scary, snowflake." Magnus leans forward, one elbow on his thigh and the other hand reaching to Raphael.  "All these things? You should tell him. I've known you for decades, I can tell how you're going to react to things but he doesn't have that. Yet. So talk with him. I bet he has things to tell you that scare him too."

"You really think he could… know things about me and still think 'happily ever after'?" He despises that concept and it is partly why he’s using it now. It’s rare his emotions confuse him so much and at this point he cannot be sure what he’s hoping for.

The idea of having a relationship seems impossible for him, even now that he's come to accept himself fully. And it is only because of Magnus taking the time to teach him how to love himself again, both as a vampire and as a queer person, that he even allows himself to consider another person loving him.

What would his soulmate think of all the things he's done over the decades of leading his clan?

"Do I need to portal Ragnor in here? Maybe he'll have better luck getting through to you?"

Raphael chuckles with wet eyes. "Tha- thank you," his voice wobbles. "But no need. Not as an intervention, that is."

"Good," Magnus leans back in his seat, satisfied. Once Raphael relaxes into the cushions, Magnus smiles softly and continues. "It is all up to you, as always. But you deserve to be happy, Raphael. You deserve to give yourself that chance."

  
  


\--

 

"I met my soulmate," Simon says after dinner, during a muted commercial break of a show he and his mom always enjoy together.

Elaine turns to face him fully, excitement making her light up. "I'm so happy for you, monkey! Who is it? When will I meet them?"

"He's… I think he's a bit older than me? I'm not sure?" He decides to keep the undead part to himself, for now at least. He thinks back to the day before, absently twirling the thread between his fingers. "He's calm and collected and he's so, so handsome, mom," Simon gushes. "He had a suit on when we met, you know? Looked like a movie star! I don't know much yet, we only met yesterday but…"

His happy ramble goes quiet when he thinks about what he's saying.

"He's everything I'm not, what if he can't accept me?" He looks to his mother, all joy turning into panic in front of her in a matter of moments.

"Oh, monkey." She pulls him in for a hug, "why would you think that?"

Simon wiggles down a little, wrapping his arms around his mom's waist like he's always done since he was a kid. "Just… tell me the universe wouldn't give me a bigot for a soulmate?"

"Of course not! it would make the guy a pretty crappy soulmate if he didn't accept you!"

Simon wishes he could actually believe that. As confident he is in his identity, he really can't contemplate coming out to his soulmate. The world is full of scumbags and what if he used up his quota of supportive people in his life?

  
  


\--

 

As soon as the sun sets, Raphael goes out, following the red string at vampire speed. Once he's close enough to see the actual home into which it leads, he slows down to a regular stride.

He's paying more attention to his surroundings than strictly necessary but there's nobody there to call him on putting off the one thing he's come here for. Raphael Santiago is not anxious to see a mundane. Not at all. He just takes his time to appreciate the small patches of greenery in front of each house, and the nicely trimmed bushes that grow along the sidewalk, leading to the front door or the nice symmetrical wood carving on it.

He shuts his eyes and curses himself for being absurd.

He presses the doorbell with more strength than strictly necessary, annoyed with himself. He frowns at a tiny wooden box attached to the door frame. He can't place it, but before he can dwell on that, the door opens and Simon is right there on the other side.

"Oh, hey! Come i…"

Raphael stops him without thinking. "No, don't… don't invite me in." It's something he's drilled into himself and made effort to convince most of his clan to practice, when dealing with mundanes; as rare as those dealings are.

Simon just fixes him with a stare. "Come in, I said!"

Despite his experience with negotiations and all the bureaucratic mess he's made an art of navigating, Raphael worries he's about to mess up one of the most important relationships in his life. Potentially. In an attempt to lighten the mood, mostly his own, he jokes."First you come into what's widely known as a haunted hotel, now you invite me in. Do you have any self-preservation instincts at all?"

Simon waves the comment off. "I'm glad you're here!"

He wouldn't be here if it weren't for Magnus. In every sense of the word; but he doesn't say that, not yet.

"A friend convinced me I should come by," he replies instead, while he looks around discreetly, taking in family pictures scattered around the furniture, along with various trinkets. There's a vibrant blanket thrown over the back of a sofa. The space feels like home and it tugs at Raphael's memories painfully.

"Remind me to send your friend a fruit basket!" Simon offers a goofy grin that makes Raphael smile. "Oh, and, my mom should be back soon! I'll get to introduce you!"

Raphael stares at him, lost for words and utterly bewildered at where he keeps that amount of cheerful energy.

"What?" Simon wipes at his chin, "do I have something on my face?!"

"No, you look fine," Raphael whispers. "You're just… chipper." He pulls one of Simon's hands away from his face gently and has an impulse to do something he's only ever seen other people do. "It's unusual for me," he brushes a soft kiss on Simon's palm."But I imagine I'll get used to it quite quickly."

Raphael admires the dazed expression on Simon's face, a little bit proud and deep down actually surprised he put it there. And then Simon looks down at their still joined hands

“Maybe you’ll just get bored of it.”

The familiar sentiment startles Raphael. "I didn't think you would be worried too." He strokes his thumb over Simon's knuckles before letting their hands drop.

"Too? You…?" Simon gapes. "But… look at you!" He waves his arms up and down, encompassing Raphael's whole figure, "You're… well, you. Why would you be worried?"

Raphael chuckles. "Well, I am." It's hard, at first. All his instincts are screaming inside him to shut up but he makes an effort to push through. "Do you think we have enough time to talk, before your mother's back?"

"I think so," Simon frowns at him. "You look serious. Come on," he leads them into the living room. At his beckon, Raphael sits down gracefully on the sofa and waits, paying attention to keep his posture open.

Simon comes to sit beside him. His leg bounces and he wrings his hands together between his thighs. "What is it you want to tell me?"

Briefly, Raphael wonders what Magnus could be up to at this hour today, but then he berates himself silently for it. Simon is looking expectantly at him and so Raphael opens his mouth… only to promptly shut it closed.

Where should he start? He hasn't thought it out. It's not as simple as saying 'I'm gay' and, no matter what reaction, people know what it means. No, he's not gay, what he is usually needs a long lecture or a power point presentation to explain it. For fucks sake, there are people out there that even claim he doesn't count as queer!

"Raphael?" Simon prompts, "you ok?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"I don't know what you're trying to tell me, but it's ok. You don't have to," there's a strangely intense look on Simon that makes Raphael wonder. "Now or ever. Ok?"

He smiles fondly. "Thank you. But I want to and you should know. I'm asexual. And aromantic. Simply put it…"

Just as he's about to explain, Simon's eyes light up. "No attraction. Yeah. Sorry!" He waves his hand absently and goes on. "I know, yeah." At Raphael's stunned expression he continues. "What? I read! There's this blogger I follow, they're aro too! It's mostly how I know. I'm pan by the way," he stops with a grin. "Go on, then."

"Sorry?" Raphael asks, this time himself in a daze.

"You were going to explain?"

"No point explaining if you know what it means."

"I know the basics, but I don't know what it means to you. I need to know! Are you ok with holding hands? You… kissed my hand before," he blushes adorably at that, "so I assume that's fine with you? What else?"

And Raphael is stuck wondering what he's done to deserve such blessing. Finally, he smiles and softly says: "You're a marvel, you know that?"

  
  


\--

  
  


Everything is wet.

Simon's pretty sure even his underwear is wet at this point. His clothes cling to his body uncomfortably, chilling him to the bone even though he's running. His lungs burn and stray rain drops sting his eyes. He stopped caring about stepping into puddles a few blocks back. He's almost at the Hotel, he can barely see anything through the raindrops that stain his glasses but luckily, he knows the way by now.

He crashes through the door into the lobby and slips, almost falling but with a gust of wind, there's suddenly a firm grip keeping him upright.

"Careful," Raphael whispers into his ear, a solid presence behind him, while Simon catches his breath.

Simon turns around, gasping still. "You're here. You, uh… you're ok?"

"Yes, I'm ok," Raphael frowns. He rubs his hands up and down Simon's arms. "Why wouldn't I be? You're drenched, though. Come," he takes Simon by the hand and tugs gently to get him moving, "let's get you warm first."

Simon follows mutely upstairs to his room. Inside, Raphael is asking him something but Simon can't contain the words anymore and as he's untying and toeing off his shoes, he finally lets out all the worry that's been fuelling him.

"There was this guy, he came to my home! He was asking about you," Simon says, while the vampire moves around - first into the bathroom, then coming up to him and wrapping a huge towel over Simon's head and shoulders. Warmth of the towel is a pleasant surprise, it must have been laying over a radiator for a while. "How long do I know you? How did we meet? I told him to go and leave me alone but he wouldn't! He had all that military gear and stuff, that dude was scary!"

"Did he hurt you?" The vampire looks him up and down quickly.

Their hands touch briefly when Simon reaches up to rub the towel over his head. "No. No, he just… looked, uh intense?"

"I'm sorry," Raphael squeezes his hand, contrite. "But I'm glad you're safe."

Simon flashes a grateful smile and continues, watching Raphael go light the fireplace.

"And then he started throwing names around," he waves his hands around while simultaneously trying to rub the wetness off his hair. "I don't know, like he was testing to see if I recognize them? It was so weird! Do you know a Magnus?"

Raphael is throwing him worried glances, rummaging in his drawers. "Yes," he mutters through clenched teeth. "Magnus is a dear friend."

"That was one name he repeated a few times. Well, that, and yours," he frowns. "I have no idea how long he nagged me. Eventually he kind of got bored?"

Raphael is leaning hard against the dresser, palms flat on the polished wood. His search seemingly abandoned, he bows his head down between his shoulders, so tense he's almost trembling.

"I'm sorry for getting you involved in this, Simon. I got careless," he shakes his head and startles Simon with a snort. "I thought I could live out this fantasy of having a soulmate…" He gives Simon a pained look, then stands up with a sniff.

Instinctively, Simon takes a step back. His heart is breaking because he knows what's coming.

No, no, no.

Soulmates are supposed to be forever!

Why did he have to tell him all that? So stupid! Should have kept silent about the creepy dude!

But then Raphael wouldn't know and now he can at least warn his friend… so it's not all bad.

Except Raphael is clearly shaken and sad and he's gonna tell Simon to go and never come back and he'll dress it up in all those "for your safety" and "I'm doing it for your own good" lines, but it will still sting and what are those stupid platitudes even supposed to mean, anyway?

He shuts his eyes.

He doesn't want to see that miserable look on Raphael's face. He loves that face, it's so pretty and kind… wow, did he just say "loved"? But the point is…

He opens his eyes just in time to see Raphael coming towards him.

The point is…

He has a lump in his throat and he blinks rapidly. Stupid glasses are getting even more blurry.

"I'm fairly certain I know who… Simon?" Raphael stops himself and leans in slowly and holds Simon's face in his hands. "What is it?"

He can't help it. At Raphael's touch Simon chokes out a sob.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I messed up!" He grabs Raphael's hands in an attempt to keep him in place, at least long enough to explain. "I know I probably overreacted, I do that, I know," he sniffles. "But people like that don't usually mean good news, so I got worried. But I can tone it down! I'm sorry, I'll try! Don't make me go, I can't…"

"No! No, nothing like that! I wasn't… I care about you, Simon and I'm sorry I made you doubt that. I will explain everything, I promise, just… you're shaking and at least part of that is because of those wet clothes, so please, just… change into something dry and we will talk, alright?"

"You're not going anywhere?"

"Not unless you want me to," he brushes his thumb over Simon's cheek, then dashes to the dresser and back at vampire speed. "I think these will fit you better than my suits," he offers Simon a pair of dark sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Simon chuckles. "Didn't think you even had any of these… you always look so," he shrugs, unsure of the right word.

Raphael smiles like he understands, his eyes soft when he looks at Simon. He pulls the damp towel down to Simon's shoulders and brushes his messy hair off to one side. His hands hover momentarily around Simon's ears.

"May I?" His soft voice washes over Simon, calming him down just a little.

Simon nods, curious what he's about to do.

Gently, Raphael takes off Simon's glasses. They were blurry to begin with so it's not much of a difference now. He wipes it quickly with a cloth from one of the drawers and hands it back.

Simon mumbles a thank you while he puts them back on and goes into the bathroom to change. He needs a moment to calm down and gather his scattered thoughts. He's made a fool of himself but hopefully Raphael meant what he said.

Taking his wet clothes off, with deep controlled breathes he wipes his body with the towel, and tells himself to calm down. He dresses with still shaking hands and bunches his own clothes into a ball on the floor. He'll have to remember to take them later.

Curious, he moves his hand over the radiator. Who would have thought vampires liked central heating.

He checks his appearance in the mirror hanging above the sink.

Just about ready to step outside, he feels around his neckline for his silver chain with the Star of David and makes a conscious effort not to hide it under the t-shirt this time.

Raphael is waiting for him in an armchair and Simon has a chance to see him looking at his own wrist, the one with the red string wrapped around it. The intensity of his stare makes Simon wonder.

Raphael looks up then and they smile at each other, before Simon's gaze strays down to the string connecting them. Without thinking, his hand goes to his wrist to fiddle with it, a habit he's developed recently.

"Are you hungry?"

Raphael is mirroring his movements, playing with his end of the string and Simon is stuck staring.

"Simon?"

"Hm? What?"

"Are you hungry? I can cook you something, or order in, if you'd rather."

Raphael motions to the armchair next to him, and Simon startles.

"No, I'm, uh," he crosses the room and sits down. "I'm good. You can cook?!" He shakes his head, wide eyed.

“I cook every Sunday."

Simon smacks the armrest in excitement. "So vampires can eat solid foods?!" He exclaims with a laugh.

"No, sorry to disappoint. We don't," Raphael offers him a shy smile. "If we do, we throw it back up, no way to digest it. I don't cook for myself, though," he looks away with a wistful expression. "I drop meals off at a Catholic retirement home in Harlem. My little sister lives there. She’s 78.”

78.

His little sister is 78. Meaning that Raphael is older than that.

He blinks rapidly, both surprised and not really because he did suspect…

Now that the information is staring him in the face, he admits this is one hell of an age gap. In the privacy of his own mind, Simon is excited about all the things Raphael must have seen, excited to ask about them… some other time. Not now.

Now they already have a topic and Simon settles into the soft cushion, not taking his eyes off the vampire and Raphael continues. At first he's talking about his sister, and with Simon's questions, the topics slowly shift to other vampires, to other Downworld creatures and finally, he's telling him about Shadowhunters and his suspicions regarding the identity of the stranger that harassed him.

Hours pass without them noticing.

Simon's fingers trace along the length of the string in languid motions, back and forth as he's listening. It feels nice. Soothing. With no conscious thought behind it, he shifts closer, and by the time he next looks down his fingers are interlaced with Raphael's. His skin is cold but soft, surprisingly so, and Simon turns their hands around with rapt attention, mesmerized by the sight.

He blinks in surprise when he realizes Raphael stopped talking and glances up guiltily. Yes, Raphael noticed his interest in his hands. The vampire has the softest look on his face Simon's ever seen though, and then brushes his thumb over Simon's knuckles, effectively banishing any worry he may have.

"I like your hands," Simon grins goofily.

They are crudely interrupted by a commotion downstairs. Wide eyed, Raphael orders, "no matter what happens, stay out of it. Understand?"

"What?" Simon shakes his head, panic rising in him. "Raphael, what is…"

"Promise me, you won't intervene!"

The door to the suite crashes open against the wall, instantly making Raphael stand and face the intruder.

"Look at you, grooming a mundane. I was right!"

Raphael rolls his eyes. "I'm not grooming anybody, we're soulmates."

Simon flinches in his seat when recognizes the tall blond man with tattoos that came into his home earlier, now coming at his soulmate at inhuman speed.

"Half dead monsters have no soulmates!"

Raphael's body hits the floor with a thud, the other man looming over him, throwing punches and insults.

Frozen in place, Simon's breathing quickens and he's struggling to understand why Raphael is not fighting back. He's seen the vampire move so fast and now all Raphael does is cover his head with his arms. Not that it's doing much to slow the assault. Simon starts forward but reminds himself his soulmate said not to get involved and there has to be a good reason for that, right?

The Shadowhunter stops suddenly and digs around in his pockets. "You know, I almost forgot about that," he comments with a chuckle, as if he hasn't been beating on Raphael. "A friend is experimenting with concentrated UV rays, to help deal with you, vamps. And I got a prototype! Look," he holds up a small device the size of a pen.

He pulls Raphael's hands away and holds them in place, while simultaneously pinning him down with the weight of his own body.

Simon lets out a horrified sound at the bloodied, bruised face. "No," he grabs at the man, trying to pull him away from the vampire. "Stop it!"

Instead of stopping though, the Shadowhunter lifts Raphael up roughly and smashes him back down against the floor with a sickening loud bump."Do I have to lock your boy toy for observation? You probably already fed him some of your blood, huh?" He addresses the vampire trapped below him.

Looking down, Simon's eyes lock with Raphael's and his heart breaks.

"Simon, it's alright," his words are slurred between gasps of unneeded air. "It's gonna be alright… please…"

"Now! How about we test my new toy out in the field?" Shadowhunter asks cheerily. He points the device down at the vampire's throat and turns it on. A blue stream of light shoots out of it and Raphael trashes against the man. As it continues, the light moves slowly up to Raphael's face, forcing a whine out of him, and then a piercing scream.

Simon crumbles to the ground next to them, tears streaming down his face and sobbing openly. His ears are ringing and his chest is too tight to breathe properly. A few times, Simon chokes out pleas for the Shadowhunter to stop and go, but they don't move him.

He can't tell how long it lasts. Too long, that's all he's sure of. Along the way, Raphael's voice has gone hoarse and slowly silent, until finally the Shadowhunter has grown bored with a barely responsive vampire and with a string of insults, gets up and just… walks away.

Simon stays in place; first looking at the door, afraid the bastard will come back, then, back down at Raphael. He wipes at his wet face hurriedly, trying to get himself under control.

"Ra-Raphael?" He croaks out and scoots close till he's kneeling right over him.

The vampire is trembling and gasping for breath, his eyes tightly shut. His face… Oh, God his face! It's criss-crossed by dark burnt gashes that disappear into the hairline, some go along his throat and there's more on his hands.

And then, there's the blood.

Simon's never seen so much blood.

Slowly, Raphael lifts one hand and points away. "Lock the door."

"What?"

"Please!" He drops his arm back onto his chest with a wince. "Can't have anyone coming in now, not yet."

Simon goes and does as instructed, deciding to wait for later with any objections. Where have all the vampires gone?

"It's locked," he feels the need to confirm. "What can I do to help? Should I go get blood?"

Raphael doesn't respond a long while. Eventually, he turns laboriously onto his side, away from Simon and his whole body shudders.

Completely petrified, Simon runs up to him and kneels back down at Raphael's back, his hands itching to touch and hold him but scared of hurting him more. He compromises by gently smoothing over Raphael's hair.

The gesture seems to take the vampire by surprise. With every stroke, his rigid form relaxes a little. Finally Raphael turns and squints up at Simon.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that."

Simon shakes his head vehemently, not knowing what to say.

Raphael turns onto his stomach, getting up onto all four, his limbs shaking under his weight.

"What are you doing?" Simon puts his hands down on Raphael’s back, stopping his laborious attempt at standing.

"You were right. I need blood."

“I can help,” he begs. “Just tell me where… please let me help...?”

With a jerky motion towards the kitchen annex that Simon hasn’t ventured in yet, Raphael mutters about blood bags in a fridge.

He scrambles up and hurries to find the fridge. He’s still shaking and choked up, stumbles on his own bare feet just in time to catch himself on the counter top. With a deep unsteady breath in, he closes his eyes but instead of calming, Raphael’s bloodied face flashes in his mind and he shivers.

He doesn’t understand anything. Least of all why suddenly there’s a laugh bubbling down in his throat but all that comes out is another shudder going over his whole body. He blinks rapidly against the sting in his eyes.

Get a grip, Lewis, you’re not the one beaten into a pulp…

He opens the small fridge and the sight of actual blood bags inside stops him in his tracks.

This is too real.

He’s seen some weird stuff in fridges, at college especially, but this?

What is he supposed to do?

Memory of his brutalized vampire gets through his panic and he grabs one bag and goes through drawers for a knife or scissors because he really has no idea how to operate a blood bag, and runs back out the annex.

His…

A tentative smile that blooms at the realization that he thinks of Raphael as his quickly disappears when he sees him sprawled on the floor motionless.

“Raphael!”

  
  


\--

 

It's late, when Magnus' phone rings. He's cleaning up in his apothecary, putting away supplies and freshly brewed potions. His hands are full with small bottles and he sets them down gently on top of his massive desk. He smiles when he sees the caller ID and picks up with a cheerful "hello".

On the other side of the line though, a heavy sigh greets him. "I… uh…" Magnus waits patiently as Raphael tries to say something, worry building up in his chest with every unfinished attempt.

"Raphael? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

There's more silence initially, then some rustling sounds and finally, the vampire responds with a choked out sob. "I need help?"

It hurts to hear him like that. "My sweet boy," magic already crackling at his fingertips, he only has to ask one thing. "Are you at the Hotel?"

"Yes."

"I'm on my way," the portal is open before he disconnects the call.

He steps through and into Raphael's room. He scans the room for danger, still not sure what to expect. Then he sees Raphael hunched over in the armchair, with… someone he doesn't recognize sitting next to him on the armrest, holding a glass of blood out for him but staring squarely at Magnus.

"Wow! So cool," the stranger comments slack-jawed.

Magnus comes up close and squats in front of Raphael, who finally looks up, revealing a horrifying mess on his face. "Oh, my poor boy," he leans close, one hand hovering over the vampire's cheek, taking in the gruesome sight.

"I'll take care of you. Don't worry about a thing," he maneuvers Raphael so he has good view and access to all the damage. Reining in his anger and all the questions, he concentrates on first soothing away the pain. Once the frown is gone from Raphael's face, Magnus pours his magic over each burn and bruise. He's not rushing anything and lets his magic wash over the vampire.

He glances to the side, every so often, at the young man wearing Raphael's clothes. His eyes are red and puffy and Magnus suspects he witnessed whatever's happened. He's fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, throwing glances either to the door, at Raphael and Magnus himself.

Finally curiosity gets the better of the warlock and he asks. "So who are you?"

He flinches at the question and his hand flies to grasp the other at the wrist. He looks to Raphael, clearly panicked, and Magnus is clenching his jaw just thinking what must have taken place here to scare him so bad.

"My soulmate," Raphael answers for him with a sigh.

"Well," Magnus stretches out the word playfully and winks. "Nice to meet you, Soulmate. I'm Magnus Bane."

"Simon, actually," he gives the warlock a nervous smile. "S-sorry, is, uh, I mean…"

"Don't worry about it, pumpkin," he flashes him a reassuring smile. "Perfectly understandable to be wary in the circumstances. Tell me what happened." By now there are no wounds visible on Raphael's face so Magnus moves his hands lower, healing his throat and hands, painfully aware that while invisible on the outside, the damage is still there. Would be, for a long time.

"This dude marched in here like he owned the place and accused Raphael of some weird shit, and he moved so fast! And, and he was hitting him and Raphael… he…"

What started as a rapid-fire report, complete with wide arm gestures and some pacing, came to a sudden halt, with Simon staring at Raphael, looking lost and confused.

"He barely defended himself," he finishes in a small voice. "Raphael, why? And, while we're at it," he's back to pacing, "where are all the vampires? Even if some were out, surely there's enough to scare the bully away?! I don't get it! You have speed and I bet you know how to fight! And…"

"Because I told them not to," is all Raphael has to say to stop Simon in his tracks.

"You," Simon is staring at him bewildered. "What?"

Magnus lets out a sigh and steps to the side, squeezing Raphael's shoulder.

"You're partially right," his eyes downcast, Raphael explains quietly. "Several vampires, hell, even just me alone, we could have kicked a Shadowhunter out of here. But then in a few hours, or the next day, we would have a whole battalion of them here. And it would have been much worse, Simon."

Magnus can sympathize with Simon's stricken expression.

"That's not right! How can you not be allowed to defend yourselves?"

Raphael stands and comes to his soulmate, resting his arms on Simon's shoulders and smoothing his hands over the back of his neck. He leans closer. Simon wraps his arms around him too, and it takes all of Magnus' willpower not to coo at the sight.

"I appreciate your indignation, I do, Simon. But we need to be careful. Shadowhunters are dangerous, and for all their talk about justice and upholding the law, Downworlder lives have no value to them. Please understand. I'm responsible for keeping my people safe. That means sometimes taking a beating from an over-excited Shadowhunter."

Behind them, Magnus flinches at such casual mention of what happened. He’s been around long enough to know Raphael’s words to be true, yet it doesn’t change the fact that he still longs to shield his sweet boy from it.

It breaks his heart that he can’t.

So as he watches Raphael with his soulmate, he takes a moment to appreciate he found somebody.

He clears his throat to get their attention.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll leave you two love birds alone,” he says with a playful wink, earning a flustered sputter from Simon and a glower from Raphael.

“You know it’s not like that...” Raphael reminds him.

Magnus just smiles and looks at Simon. "I could portal you right home, absolutely safe and with no risk of bumping into..." he waves a hand dismissively with a sour expression, "unfriendly sort."

"Portal, like… the way you showed up here?”

Magnus grins, but to his surprise, Simon’s excitement wanes and he looks down at his wrist. “No, I, uh, as much as I'd love that… I want to stay,” Simon throws their vampire a quick look to check in: “that ok?"

Because yes, the warlock thinks with a proud smile, as much as Raphael is his, he’s now Simon’s also.

"Of course," Raphael's eyes crinkle.

"Just let me text my mom so she doesn't worry," he steps away to do just that, giving the two Downworlders some time of relative privacy.

"Thank you, Magnus."

The warlock wraps Raphael in a hug. "You know you don't have to thank me, Raphael." Looking over his shoulder at Simon, Magnus whispers: “I like your soulmate. Make sure he’s alright after all this...”

The vampire nods mutely against his shoulder.

  
  


\--

  
  


They are facing each other under the covers. Tentatively at first, Simon scoots closer and closer until he can wrap his arm around Raphael and pulls him against his chest.

The vampire pulls the covers tightly around them and rests his hand on Simon's waist. "I don't usually breathe when I sleep. Just, so you don't panic, ok?"

"Oh, right!" Simon knows he would freak if he woke up next to a cold not breathing body, any time but today especially. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry," he whispers against Simon's t-shirt.

"Hm? It's fine…"

"I mean, for everything. For," Raphael burrows into Simon's embrace, holding tight. "Yeah, everything."

"Dude, no!" No matter how he tries to move, in this position all he can see of Raphael is the top of his head. Which isn't bad, looks soft actually. "Nothing to be sorry for. End of discussion."

Raphael chuckles.

"I'm tired and I just want to hold you now." He rests his cheek between the pillow and Raphael's head. He was right, Raphael's hair is so soft.

"I'd like that," Raphael answers from his spot over Simon's heart. "You're warm."

Simon smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> so the world is bit dystopian? kinda? i hope? XD and i am working on a companion fic to this one that goes into malec side of things and some political dark stuff and reform


End file.
